What I Did For Love
by webcomix
Summary: A dancer's experience at an audition. Very loosely based on A Chorus Line. My very first submission, enjoy!
1. Part 1

**What I Did For Love**

The glass panels of the stage door were all smudgy. Alain grimaced as he shoved it open with his left hand, yanking his scarf off with his right. It irritated him to realize that he had arrived so late – well, at least on his terms. He was hoping an early entrance would give the impression that he was dedicated and attentive. Plus, it would give him time to warm up.

"God, I hope I get it," he thought to himself. He hadn't decided to take a gap year for nothing. Although mother had wished for him to go to university in London or New York, Alain understood the importance of nabbing a job in the performing arts world, which is why he wanted to get a few productions under his belt. Nothing looked uglier than an empty résumé, which he would have to submit anyway if he were to apply for university. He had to get this job. He couldn't afford to lose any time. Life from now on would just be show, after show, after show. It would always be constant auditions and praying. He knew he'd hate the empty gaps of unemployment in between.

He peeked into the practice room. At least fifty other people were already present, stretching by the big bay window, or dotted about the room in wary clumps, noses upturned. Alain stepped inside, and the heavy door swung shut with a loud squeak. Every single head instantly twirled around and stared. This was always the part he hated the most in auditions. Just waiting to go in, in such close proximity to everyone else, with all the negative vibes being hurled around the area…it could throw anyone off balance. Alain would need all the focus he could get. He pulled his headband up higher on his forehead, pushing his long black hair out of his eyes. Ignoring all the condescending looks thrown in his direction, he sat down next to the barre and began his stretches.

"Hey!"

He started, and glanced to his left. A slightly chubby, Hispanic girl smiled cheerfully at him. She had her legs stretched out nearly horizontal to each other, stretching her torso nearly flat on the floor, resting her head on her hands. Alain imitated the position.

"Hi."

"I bet you're really good. Just by watching you come in, people can tell. Your movements are really flow-y and all. That's why they got all nervous watching you," the girl told him, tying her frizzy brown hair into a messy bun.

"Oh. Umm…thanks. My cousin used to say I walk like a girl," Alain replied.

"Hahaha! Oh, those civilians…I'm Diana Rodriguez."

"Alain Chen."

"Nice. How long have you done dance?"

"Since I was like, seven. My mom said she signed up for classes so I would find a place to channel all my energy. Soon it became a place where I could really express myself, you know? So, I never left."

"Wow. I wanted to be an actress first." She started stretching her arms. "But I looked around and it was just like, I realized that there was more to it, right? And I wanted something extra to add instead of just acting. Good thing my mom had me take ballet. So here I am, trying out for a musical."

"You're not really a musical person?"

"No, not really. It's nice and all. I liked, what was it – _Hairspray_. That was so cute. Are you really into musicals?"

"Yeah….well, I really started with ballet, but I was always like prancing around, singing too…so I decided, might as well get that developed too, and that's how it happened. Now, it's like my life. I couldn't imagine doing anything else. No matter what happens, I'll never stop wanting it."

"What I did for love, eh?"

Alain laughed. "Exactly!"

Suddenly the heavy wooden door banged open again, and all noise ceased immediately. A tall, powerfully built man strode in briskly, followed by a shorter, younger, man hurrying behind him, scribbling furiously on a clipboard. The first man scanned the room with stern grey eyes.

"I am Terrence Brent, the director and choreographer of this show," he announced to the hushed crowd of gypsies in front of him. "This is Mike Cilento, the dance captain. He is going to give you each a number. When you have received one, stand in front of the mirror, and we'll begin."

Looking at Diana, Alain said, "Best of luck."

"The same to you," she replied with a grin.

All the other dancers had surrounded Mike, each clamouring for a card. He, obviously flustered, was trying to distribute them as quickly as he could. Alain and Diana hung back, waiting until the crowd had settled down a bit, then came forward.

"Nineteen, Twenty-three," Mike told them. He turned to the front of the room and stood next to Terrence, who was surveying the crowd with a look of indifference.

"Alright, we'll start with a simple routine. Step step, kick touch, down up side kick. Again, step step, kick touch, down up side kick."

The dancers nervously imitated the movements, jerkily and with unsure step. Alain concentrated as hard as he could, pushing all the pressure around him from his mind. He focused on Terrence alone, memorizing the moves. As the minutes passed and they learned the routine, only the sound of the piano and the thumping of leaping feet were heard over Terrence's booming voice.

"Now for the ballet sequence," Terrence called. The gypsies stopped and watched him, panting and wiping sweat off their foreheads. Alain could make out Diana through the mass of people on his right, hurriedly re-tying her bun. Others were swaying slowly on the spot, and like the opposite of an adrenaline rush, seemed to have lost all their energy already.

"Chassé, chassé, turn, out, jeté jeté! Arabesque, step, and twirl, walk, walk, pivot and plié." Terrence demonstrated once again. "I think we all have it down decently. Now, let's do it AWAY from the mirror – girls first, then boys."

It was a gruelling process. Alain leapt, stepped and twirled over and over again. When he was standing, waiting for the next call, he could feel the body heat emanating from all the other boys standing around him. It annoyed him to be in such close proximity, but it couldn't be helped. He watched Terrence and Mike's expressions as each group came before them and did the routines. Their serious, whispered consultations drew attention from every hopeful, anguished soul in the room, each praying to the unknown dance gods to be kind to their feet.

Finally, Terrence stopped everyone. "That's enough for now. Mike will call the numbers of those who have been selected to stay longer. Do not feel discouraged if your number is not called. There will be a production for you one day."

Mike stepped to the front of the nervous crowd. "Number seven. Sixteen. Thirty-two…"

Alain held his breath. "God, I hope I get it. I hope I get it. How many people does he need?" his mind chanted. "God, I hope I get it. I hope I get it. How many boys, how many girls?"

"Twenty-three…" Mike called. Alain looked up and saw a surprised and happy Diana grab her résumé and walk to the corner where the other gypsies huddled together in relief. She shot him a smile and he returned it.

"Forty-one, twelve, twenty-five, and…." The remaining hopefuls leaned forwards with anxiety. "Nineteen."

Alain felt relaxation flow back into his body at that one last word. He quickly slithered through the crowd and found his way to the corner with résumé in hand. He kept a neutral look on his face and avoided those of the ones who didn't make it. He knew they were staring at him with disappointment and resentment. They were thinking, "Hey! That could have been me! Maybe if they didn't pick him, my number would have been called…"

It didn't matter, of course, since obviously, he had been chosen instead. He waited patiently with the others. He had done a quick headcount and realized that, including himself, there were twenty people left. Ten boys and ten girls. But how many did Terrence want in the end?

"Okay, guys," Terrence said, finally turning to them. "Good job, you've come this far. However, the thing is, I still can't use all of you." They stared at him with quivery eyes. "This chorus only requires five boys and five girls. That means exactly half of you will leave today without a part." This comment was met with grave faces. "To make things easier, I'm going to teach you all a short routine. Then, Mike will split you into groups of four so we can pay attention to each dancer without wasting time with individual auditions. This helps us because you will be performing alongside somebody else, so we can compare you to the others without having to divide attention too much. This is also a good opportunity for your teammates to help you as well." The dancers shifted uncomfortably, and another round of wary glances shot through the pack. "You'll have an hour to practice. Mike, give out the groups."

**The rest of the story will appear soon! Please review. Thank you very much.**


	2. Part 2

**Here's the rest...enjoy!**

As the assistant stepped forward and started calling names, Diana turned to Alain and murmured, "Man! I've never done this before. Have you?"

"No," he whispered back. "Usually, in places where I've done this, they wait to contact you later or something for the callbacks."

"….And the last group: Twelve, thirty-seven, twenty-three, nineteen."

"Alright! We're in the same group!" Diana nudged Alain.

Alain smiled in reply. He wasn't sure of the other group members, though. The boy, a tall and muscular blond, wasn't looking in their direction. Rather, he was examining his shoes. When he was done, he still purposefully ignored their faces, looking more intently at the other groups. The girl, on the other hand, stared straight at Alain and Diana. One of the older people there, her thin arms were folded almost protectively in front of her, and her green eyes clearly conveyed the idea that she didn't think too highly of her team members. However, when she turned her gaze on the rest of the crowd, it seemed as if she didn't like anyone else, either.

After ten minutes of quick routine learning, the dancers trooped out of hall and into their respective practice rooms. Alain waited as the blond boy, Bobby, fiddled with the key. They still hadn't spoken to each other. Valerie, the girl, tapped her foot impatiently. Finally, the four entered the dark room. Diana flipped on the light switch.

They stood there for about thirty seconds, just eyeing each other uncomfortably. Diana was the first to speak.

"So, um. I guess we'll just go over it one time in front of the mirror to see what parts we're unfamiliar with, right?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Bobby said. He got up and started to the CD player in the corner of the room.

For the next fifteen minutes, the team practiced the routine endlessly. That is, if you could actually call the four dancers a team. Nobody spoke a word apart from suggesting what to do next, which was met by a hasty, mutual agreement. The exchange was usually between Diana and Bobby, with Alain commenting occasionally. Valerie was completely silent. As they went through the steps for the umpteenth time, Alain reflected on the situation. He knew Diana was just trying to make these things work, to make things less awkward. Still, just going through the routine repeatedly wasn't really going to help. He was starting to really dislike Valerie. She was no help at all, just standing there with her look of disdain, as if they didn't deserve to be there. Bobby was a mystery. He seemed focused enough, but for some reason, didn't want to look at anyone else in the room. For Alain, he felt like he was going to be fine. Thanks to the constant repetition, he had the routine memorized completely, and was sailing through it without a misstep. Although he liked Diana well enough, this entire group thing was just really awkward. He didn't understand at all what Terrence was trying to get out of this. He was used to doing things on his own, and figured that was the way he learned best.

"So, um….." Diana's voice once again penetrated his thoughts. "Anybody have suggestions on what to do now?"

"Yeah." The team started, for this was the first time Valerie had said anything at all. "How about not pointlessly doing this whole thing again? I could probably do this in my sleep." She fixed the blushing, embarrassed Diana with a well-practiced look of boredom.

Even if she had echoed his mind perfectly, a sense of irritation and anger swelled up within Alain. "What do you propose we do then?" he shot back at her.

Valerie flipped her straight red hair out off her shoulder and shrugged. "I don't know, just something. What is there to do, anyway?"

"Terrence said that we could help-"

"Well Terrence could be wrong because I don't think there's anything else we can get out of this. I mean, we all know it, right? It's just dancing, which we can all obviously do. It's not even hard or anything."

Alain looked up from the floor. "Just dancing? If you don't really care about it, what are you in this for, anyway?"

"The job, of course," Valerie snarled. "You can't just sit around all day and expect to still pay rent."

"Then why don't you do something else? If you really knew what's it going to be like to be a dancer, you know how it's going to be. If you just want a freakin' job, this is probably your worst choice because you can't depend on it!"Alain nearly shouted.

"I'm here because I'm good," she answered angrily. "I know I can get this, and I don't need some star struck ballet kid to tell me what this business is about. I've probably been around longer than you have, which means I know how it works. You get out there all happy and thinking it's wonderful, but after a while, you'll see that it isn't. Wait until you get to the point when you're doing the same old thing every night. I told you. I've been there. Oh, and I don't need other people to tell me how to dance, either!" And with that, she stalked over to the door and walked out, allowing the door to slam shut on its own.

Bobby glanced nervously at Alain's irate face and said, "I guess we'll take a break." He left the room as well, and it was only Alain and Diana left in front of the mirror.

Diana observed Alain's fuming. "Well, that was a great way of handling things."

"Stop it," he snapped. "You're not a real dancer either, you said so yourself." He looked up and saw her surprised and hurt expression. "I mean…I'm sorry. But you said you just wanted to be an actress, that you don't even care much for musicals. It's just like – I mean, – I – sorry." He sighed and sat down on the wood floor. "When you're a musical nerd and nobody else is, it's so hard to be taken seriously, almost. When you talk about the shows you love and try to share things about them to other people, they just think you're being funny and random. Like, they don't make fun of you, but nobody takes it seriously! Nobody understands it! When I find something cool, or interesting that I found about some show, there is nobody, nobody I know personally that I can tell it to right away. Because all the people around me just don't get it, and they give me funny looks and think I'm being weird. It just gets me, sometimes, how I feel like I have nobody to go to when I want to share that happy feeling about just….loving a show!"

Diana sat down in front of him. "I guess I can't go all Broadway-crazy with you or anything, but I still don't think that fixes our situation. Valerie said that she's been there, doing the whole eight shows a week thing, and we have every reason to believe her. What if your dream thing turns out to be that sort of experience? What are you going to do then?"

"I don't – I can't even imagine what it's like to be bored of doing a show." Alain replied. "Like, I could listen to the entire score of _A Chorus Line_ over and over again for months without ever getting bored of it. And basically, I have! If you can get really into it, you'll never get tired of it, right?" Suddenly, he sat up straighter, and looked at Diana earnestly. "In that way, what I said before is totally related to this. If you knew how I feel about shows, I don't think there's any possible way I could ever stop feeling that happiness when I do them!"

"That's your heart talking," she said. "But think about it! In high school, I got this job at the movies, and I thought it was really cool how I could just see them for free. But after a while, it wasn't as exciting anymore. I knew what was going to happen next. It became…my job. Like I guess dance became for Valerie."

"Well, I will never give up," Alain said shortly. He stood up. "I've got to get this show."

"There are other things to do. Not getting this one show isn't going to kill you."

"But I don't want to waste any time, especially with other people giving off their negative vibes."

Diana looked at him amusedly from the floor. "Still, you've got to try to work with this thing. Terrence put us here so we can learn from each other. I hope you remember something she says, then. She's got the experience, after all."

"Yeah…fine. But just so you know, I'm used to doing things on my own. It's how I learn best."

"Ahh, now you sound exactly like her," Diana remarked dryly, pulling herself to her feet.

"What? Hello, I'm not a condescending superiority complex, or whatever!"

"Yeah, but the whole 'oh I can do it by myself, determinedness, durrr' thing makes the two of you very, very similar."

Alain grumped, "But I'm different."

"Very well, Mr. Denial, but seriously, maybe you can think about that. I'm pretty sure this director isn't stupid." Diana headed to the door and opened it. "I'm going to get the others, because we're losing precious time. There's only about twenty minutes left before we have to present this. So let's try to make this work, okay?"

After she left, Alain sighed and stared into the mirror. His reflection stared back. He noticed his arms were also folded tight across his chest, and let them relax, dangling at his sides instead. Valerie and Diana's words bounced around in his mind again. Alright, he admitted to himself. It was a possibility. He'd read in a book about Broadway about people who got so bored with their jobs, to the point in which they'd just walk through shows or create mayhem just to amuse themselves. He hated thinking about himself in that light, because he'd never want to go through these things like a robot, but he didn't want to act unprofessionally either. Suddenly, he remembered a quote from an actress from the book. "You do it for an audience who wasn't there the last seven hundred and fifty times."

And as for getting the show…but he had a plan, he wanted things to go his way. That was the whole point of working alone; you had control over everything, the pacing, the methods, all of it. Alain gripped the barre and looked at himself again. His face gazed back, along with the rest of the empty room. His face watching intently, and then it relaxed and he sighed again. To dance in a show was to be a team member, he knew. His own idol musical, _A Chorus Line_, should have taught him that. Why, then, didn't he allow himself to be a good team player? He finally turned away from the mirror. Was it because he always thought he was alone and misunderstood? Yes. Obviously. There was some strange pride in being different and 'weird.' But you can't honestly expect to be alone in the world. Sure, you're an individual, but you've got to admit that there are probably – no, definitely – a million others out there thinking the exact same sad thoughts as you are. No need to be a suffering artist. Like in _RENT_. Alain smiled inwardly at himself, catching his mind's instant reference.

The door creaked open again. Alain looked up and Diana, Bobby and Valerie walked in. Diana crossed over to Alain.

"Ready?"

"Yeah." He walked over to Valerie, who, once again, had her arms folded, almost covering herself. He extended his hand towards her. "Sorry for the outburst. I guess you do know more than I do. I've only been in three real shows."

To his surprise, she relaxed and smiled apologetically. Taking his hand, she said, "I'm sorry too. You're not that bad, honestly. Auditions can get pretty weird. People get really weird, too." They shook.

Alain turned to the rest of the team. Bobby was looking directly at them for once. In fact, he looked the most relaxed he had all day. Alain realized that the tension within the group had disappeared, and they were finally able to work together. The rest of the time was spent well, the group going over the routine again, but this time, they actually watched each other instead of only themselves. They shared their observations after segments, and gratefully took each suggestion to heart to improve themselves.

Then, it was over. Mike stuck his head through the door and told them to go back and wait in front of the main hall. As the last group, the four watched as the door swung open and closed repeatedly, allowing anxious gypsies in and out of the room. Alain could feel his stomach churning inside him. Bobby had resumed analyzing his laces with great concentration. Valerie's mouth was set in a line, shifting her weight from right to left every few seconds. Diana retied her hair bun once more, and met Alain's eyes. Their eyes met, and they smiled awkwardly at each other. It was the moment of truth….again.

At last, it was their turn. Bobby pulled open the heavy door for the last time, and they filed in quietly. Terrence and Mike were sitting on chairs at the front left hand corner.

"Valerie Blair. Alain Chen. Bobby McKechnie, and Diana Rodriguez?" Mike questioned, shuffling résumés in his hands. They nodded in assent. "Alright, then. Let's see it."

Alain took a deep breath as the all-too familiar music sounded once more. He kicked and leaped along with the rest of his teammates. None of them made a mistake in the routines, although he was too nervous to closely observe the others to really pick out flaws. Terrence and Mike watched with the typical audition stone faces. It would be fruitless to try to glean any hope from them. At one point, Terrence seemed to look at Alain directly and whispered to Mike, who nodded. Alain tried to push the curiosity from his mind and simply danced.

Then all too soon, the session was over. The four stood still, sucking in air and looking at the powerful pair in front of them. Inside, Alain started chanting again. "God, I hope I get it! I hope I get it!" If his mind had legs, it'd be zooming around his head cavity like crazy. "I've come this far but even so, it could be yes, it could be no, how many people does he-"

Terrence and Mike stood up, the former turning to the remaining four.

"Thanks for coming," he told them. "I know it's been an intense day for you, as it has been for us and the rest of the dancers." He looked at them seriously. "Each person who was left after the first cattle call was fully qualified to get this job, so please don't take it personally if you are not chosen." He paused and glanced down at the stack of résumés in his hands. The four dared not to look at each other, but watched him intently. Finally, he spoke again.

"There are still aspects of each person we'd like to go over. So instead, we will notify you by email whether you get a part in this production of not. You may leave now. Once again, thank you very much for coming."

They left as silently as they entered, and parted ways to their separate dressing rooms. Alain's mind, so busy and bursting with questions before, felt like a punctured bike tire, floppy and limp. He suddenly realized just how tired he was from all the dancing and nervous energy. He took his time changing, and decided to keep his headband on. Passing Bobby on the way out, he nodded and smiled at him. Bobby, looking clearly relieved that the ordeal was over, waved back.

When Alain pulled the handle of the stage door again, Diana was standing outside, tucking her hair under the hood of her jacket. Seeing him, she laughed happily.

"Oh my god, I can't believe it's over, because at the same time it's not! Can you?"

"Well, sort of. It's going to be killer waiting for that email."

"I know! Still, I'm so glad it's done and all. I'm just going to forget it until that thing comes. Hey, I'm going to get a drink. Wanna come with me?"

Alain hesitated. He could just go home and go over his own solo projects. He almost began his apology when he remembered. Why be a suffering artist? He pulled on his scarf again.

"Yeah, I guess. There's a really good coffee place like two blocks away."

"Great! Let's go! I'm totes dying for something sweet. Felt like I didn't eat all day."

She grabbed his arm and they trotted through the cold air, leaving their worries behind to enjoy the moment and each other's company.


End file.
